


Not On Board

by annejumps



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Body Paint, Community: kink_bingo, Kink Negotiation, Love Bites, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-08 00:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you actually going to pitch a wobbly if I don’t let you scrawl obscenities on my skin with cheap body paint and lick it off right this second?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not On Board

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [kink_bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) Round 5 for the squares _writing on the body_ and _bites/bruises_. Beta'd by [anatsuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatsuno/pseuds/anatsuno). 
> 
> I was intending to write more serious kink disinterest / negotiation, but of course it turned into “shut up <3” “no u shut up <3"

“You know what I thought we could try?”

Eames was half-asleep on his stomach on an exceptionally lush hotel bed; Arthur was spread out over his back, warm and sounding awfully chipper for this time of the morning. Eames thought longingly of tea.

“Mm, what, love?”

Arthur was idly stroking a fingertip over his side. “Have you ever had someone write on your skin? Like... with chocolate body paint?”

Frowning, Eames closed his eyes. “That sounds awfully pedestrian.” It sounded like an American university student thing, really. Arthur had been one once, after all.

Arthur’s finger paused. “Have you, though?”

“I have had people write on my body. I paid them to write on my body. With tattoo guns.”

Arthur poked him. “That’s not what I meant.”

“People have licked chocolate from my skin, if that’s what you mean.” If a little smugness crept into his tone, well.

“No. I mean, has someone used a brush to paint words on your skin.” Arthur was getting a bit testy now.

“No. I must say, no one has done that,” Eames admitted with a shrug.

“So. Do you want to?”

“Mm.” Eames stretched, stifling a yawn; Arthur settled on him again. “Well, love, perhaps, if I were really bored, but it’s no great shakes, is it?”

“But... licking,” Arthur said after a moment, sounding confused.

“Surely you can lick me without needing chocolate body paint and a paintbrush.”

“Well, yeah, but.... It’s fun.”

“Letting me sleep is fun.” Arthur blew a raspberry on his shoulder. “You’re such a child.”

“Hmph.” The weight of Arthur’s brooding and pouting was heavy indeed.

“Are you actually going to pitch a wobbly if I don’t let you scrawl obscenities on my skin with cheap body paint and lick it off right this second? Do you even have any with you?”

“No,” Arthur said, his scowl audible in his voice. “It was just an idea. I just thought we could try it.” He rolled off of Eames and, from the sound of it, rolled over, facing away, and resumed brooding.

“Are you in a strop?” Eames asked after a few minutes.

“Shut up,” Arthur replied, muffled as if by a pillow. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Eames heaved himself to Arthur’s side of the bed, wrapped an arm around him, and kissed his neck, his ear, his jaw. “Mm, don’t pout, dearest,” he said between kisses. “If it’s that important to you, you may write whatever you wish on me and lick it off all day long.”

Arthur gave a little growl that Eames recognized as his Growl of Relenting And/Or Conceding. “I want you to be into it, though,” he finally said, still muffled. “I don’t want you to just... humor me.”

“You’re very sweet.” Eames gently bit his earlobe. “And I humor you all the time, actually.” Arthur reached behind himself to lightly punch him. “Ouch. I know, let’s have an agreement. I’ll humor you, and at a later time, you can humor me with something ridiculous and maudlin I want to do. How’s that?”

“Fine,” Arthur grumbled. “I’ll get the body paint kit later today,” he added, as if he were doing Eames a favor. He turned over completely and allowed himself to be properly kissed.

Later that morning, as Arthur dressed, he finally asked Eames what his idea was. “You’ll see,” Eames replied with his best mysterious smile.

Arthur bought the paint, and they spent a very pleasant evening with it, Arthur painting his back and making Eames guess what he was writing or drawing. Correct guesses included a gun and Arthur’s name. Arthur’s name came up several times, actually. Eames hid a smile at the thought of Arthur frowning in concentration as he painted his name on Eames’ back.

Then, Arthur licked the chocolate off, and turned him over. Nipple-painting and -licking was a great deal more fun, Eames thought. He also borrowed the brush to paint some abstract designs on Arthur. It was absorbing, though not as absorbing as sucking Arthur’s cock.

“Your turn next,” Arthur pointed out much later, both of them panting, and sticky for various reasons. Eames just nodded.

The following night, Arthur stripped down to his boxers and got under the covers with Eames. “So. Have you given any more thought to what you want to do?”

Eames scrubbed a hand over his face. “Um. It’s--”

“Is it ridiculous?” Arthur interrupted. “Because that’s what you said mine was. And that’s kind of the point.”

“Will you let me talk? Yes. Yes, it’s ridiculous.”

“It doesn’t involve clowns, does it?”

“What? No, no clowns. Jesus Christ, Arthur.” Eames’ hand paused on its habitual journey to Arthur’s groin.

“Good. So, what is it?”

“Er.” Eames stretched as Arthur settled in, half on top of him. “Well--”

“Spit it out, quit fidgeting.”

“All right, all right. I want to... give you a lovebite, above the collar of your shirts, where everyone can see.” Oh, it sounded stupid out loud like that, just as he’d thought it would. Arthur would never let him hear the end of it.

“That sounds awfully... pedestrian,” Arthur said with a smirk. Eames noticed his ears were turning pink. “Really, that’s it? You want to give me a hickey, that’s it?”

“A hickey other people can see,” Eames said, mildly peeved at Arthur for missing the point.

Arthur raised a brow. “And what am I supposed to say if someone notices this hickey and says something about it?”

“Smile mysteriously. In that smug way you have.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Should I also wink in your direction and do a double thumbs-up?”

“If you like.”

“Maybe I’ll stage-whisper ‘They’ll never guess it was you.’”

“Feel free.”

“I’m not doing those things. What’s the point of a passive-aggressive visible hickey?”

Eames shrugged. “Look, Arthur, if you aren’t interested, we don’t have to do it, it’s fine.”

“No, I mean, I agreed to do it.”

“Well, don’t do it just because you feel obligated.”

“It’s not that. It’s not like I have a problem with you giving me a hickey.”

“All right, so shut up and roll over so I can accost you.” Arthur did, and Eames set about properly attacking his neck while Arthur pretended to resist, which entailed wrapping every available limb around Eames and moaning appreciatively.

Eames paused to judge his handiwork: Arthur’s neck was red with stubble burn which looked rather painful, necessitating kisses, and then more bites, and little sucking marks Eames was meant to leave in the first place.

Coming to his senses, Arthur disentangled himself, jumped up, and went to the dresser mirror. “I thought we agreed on one hickey. I look like I’ve been attacked by a wolverine,” he complained, tilting his head back to survey the damage to his lovely neck.

Eames beamed at him in the mirror, and crawled up the bed to sit at the end of it and hook a finger in the waistband of Arthur’s boxers. He pulled Arthur back to sit between his legs, and wrapped his arms around him. Meeting his gaze in the mirror, he kissed his ear, and gave his cock a squeeze through his boxers. “Cheer up, darling, I’m sure it will fade a bit by tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t even think about distracting me with a handjob,” Arthur groused, even as he pushed his hips into Eames’ grip, impatient.

“What nonsense you’re talking,” Eames said into the soft skin behind his ear.

“Shut up and jerk me off,” Arthur said, tilting his head back, but still watching their reflections. Eames nuzzled the marks he’d left and pushed aside the fabric of Arthur’s boxers, getting a proper firm grip on him in the process. Arthur spread one hand out over Eames’ thigh and gripped the duvet with the other.

“At least there are some things we both enjoy, hm?” Eames murmured, gently closing his teeth on Arthur’s skin as he ground his hard cock against his arse.

“Yeah, good thing, too,” Arthur gasped out. His skin was starting to go pink all over as it did when he got worked up. “Otherwise I’d have to stop seeing you.”

“Talking more nonsense,” Eames managed to say as Arthur made a point of writhing. “Am I not sufficiently distracting you from your outrage over my lovebites?”

“Almost,” Arthur replied, starting to pant a bit, having found the perfect rhythm between fucking into Eames’ fist and pressing back against his cock. “But I thought I told you to shut up.”

“Rubbish. You love my voice.”

“I love it about as much as you love being painted on with cheap chocolate body paint,” Arthur said, obviously lying.

“Joke’s on you, then, I actually liked that rather a lot.” Eames flicked his thumb over the head of Arthur’s cock.

“Oh, you got me,” Arthur scoffed, breathless.

“Victory is mine,” Eames said, and pressed a wet kiss to Arthur’s neck. “As are you.”

“Shut up,” Arthur said, but he was grinning at Eames in the mirror.

“You can’t tell me to shut up any more, kitten, I know you don’t mean it,” Eames whispered.

“All right, fine, don’t shut up, just get me off,” Arthur said, voice starting to go attractively ragged at the seams.

Eames tightened his grip and jerked Arthur faster, his own cock wedged snugly between Arthur’s arsecheeks and rubbing against the cotton of the boxers.

In the mirror, he watched Arthur come, soft lips parted. His own orgasm, following immediately after, seemed almost incidental. Almost.

“When I tell you not to shut up,” Arthur breathed, chuckling, idly shifting through his aftershocks, “you shut up.”

“Hush, Arthur,” Eames said, smiling against his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [anatsuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatsuno/), Julia, and Liz for all your help!


End file.
